


Jetsam

by Sephone_North



Series: Book 1: Judged [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Fever Dreams are a glimpse into the Spirit World? Sounds like bullshit, Gen, Hakoda (Avatar) is a Good Parent, No Beta: We die like mne, Zuko is awake and alive!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:53:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25470430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sephone_North/pseuds/Sephone_North
Summary: Jetsam: unwanted material or goods that have been thrown overboard from a ship and washed ashore, especially material that has been discarded to lighten the vessel.Zuko wakes up from some fever dreams and finds himself on an enemy ship. It's a good thing Azula is there, huh?
Relationships: Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Zuko & Hakoda, Zuko & The Spirits
Series: Book 1: Judged [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844545
Comments: 111
Kudos: 1792





	Jetsam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MuffinLance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/gifts).



> Can I just say, trying to figure out an ancient foreign calendar system just enough to mold it into some form of fictional calendar system is a ridiculous endeavor? Just pointing it out. 
> 
> Still Muffin's fault. Kutsaa is hers. 
> 
> Holy cow guys! I got 22 reviews in three hours on Flotsam, and I'm floored. It's because of that, I have to say, that this chapter just flowed. Thank you so much. I'm just amazed.

> _“It is known to all sages that the Spirit-touched do not live easy lives. It is a sign of a life of greatness, that the person who is touched is beyond importance. But those of us who meet these people do our best to hide our pity. We know that their lives will be hard and full of struggle. A sage will never wish the touch of a spirit on anyone. The pain is rarely worth the reward.”_

-Earth Sage Fa Xing from _The Spirit’s Tales_

written in the 3rd year of Zhi Yuan Era of Earth King Han Chang in the age of Avatar Aki

> _“Fever Dreams are the Spirit’s letter to the soul. It is in fever dreams that we gain enlightenment._

\- Air Monk Dechen

(who was shunned from the Temples in the 8th year of the Rhu Ming Era of Earth King Ming Zhau in the age of Avatar Iara)

\---

Zuko dreamed. The last thing he remembered was tying himself to the barrels floating in the ocean, in the hopes that even in death, his sister would have food. Then he dreamed.

At least, he hoped they were dreams and not the Spirit World itself.

He dreams of a long dragon, winding through an empty ocean. The dragon is monstrous, black and brown scales, horns of obsidian, with terrible teeth and lava bright eyes. It swims and, in its wake, volcanoes erupt. Islands rise from the ocean. It curls on itself, and land swirls into being in it’s center. A woman descends from the sky to lay upon the earth. The dragon swims away, mountains exploding towards the sky as it leaves.

He dreams of the palace, empty and quiet. The throne room is empty, the fires unlit. The sun is shining outside, but it dims slowly, though he knows it’s day. The ground rumbles, but there is nothing here. The sky is black as night in the middle of the day. No one stands in the palace. The Fire Nation is abandoned.

_(Azula, is she okay? Will she survive without him? Of course she will, she’s smart and strong. Azula, who sat in the moonlight and heated them with blue fire. Azula, who boiled the water so they could drink. He hadn’t done anything. She’ll be better without him. )_

He dreams of a woman, settled on a cushion, a Pai Sho board in front of her. She has no opponent, just an icy ocean shore. She is beautiful, white hair as long as her entire body flowing behind her like snow, dark skin similar to that of the Water Tribe, silver eyes glowing like moonlight. Her intricate robe is embroidered in patterns he can’t even comprehend. A black dot rests on her forehead, and a necklace with a crescent moon and ocean waves lies at her throat. She places a piece on the board and smiles.

He dreams of fire, bright and burning. He flinches away, but the fire is warm to him, like the feeling of home, turtleducks and his mother’s laugh. A booming laugh startles him, but it sounds proud. The fire shifts, from sunbright oranges and reds to greens and blues and purples.

He dreams of the Palace, but he is sitting on the stage, fires lit before him. Two dragons, a blue and a red wrap around him, whispering. The blue speaks with his father’s voice, the red with his mother’s. They talk and talk, Father demanding respect and offering rage, Mother whispering temperance and offering fear. The fires burn orange, but he knows they’re wrong. He listens to the voices, trepidation in his chest.

_(They’re gone, Mother and Father. They were in the ship, they couldn’t have gotten out. They didn’t get out, he knows, he looked. He had grabbed Azula, shoved her on the floating metal, and swam back into the waves to try and find anyone at all. Only dead bodies. Only broken pieces. The salt water made the burn on his face light up in pain, but he swam until he found the emergency kit, the barrels, the food.)_

He dreams of the ocean’s depths, of water so dark that no light can reach. There is no sun in the water, no warmth. It is cold and unforgiving and he feels a fear that is unbearable. Something swims around him, almost invisible if not for the white glowing spot atop its head. He is afraid, and it offers no comfort, but he can sense respect from it.

 **“It is a rare soul who survives in the waves,”** A deep voice envelops him, reverberating through his body. **“I tested to see if you were worthy of Agni’s faith. It seems he is correct for once. Perhaps, my love’s little game is feasible.”**

He is confused, but dreams are like that. Nothing makes sense.

He dreams of the Palace again, but this time it is different. A table sits in the throne room, but he does not sit on the stage. He is at a table, joined by others. A girl his age with white hair, blue robes embroidered with Koi fish sits at his left. A boy in Water Tribe blue sits next to her, his clever eyes staring at the board. A girl with milky jade eyes and a smirk sits across from him at the foot of the table. A bald boy with the blue arrows of a long dead people sit next to her.

At his right hand, sits Azula, bright golden eyes amused at the table. The others shine with a supernatural light, but she sits shadowed instead. He knows she is not meant to be there, but she is there. She looks at him and smiles, and he knows she is there because of him. He feels safe. His sister is well and alive. He smiles back and the fire behind him burns with blue and green flames.

 _(_ _Please let her be alive. Please let her be okay. It had hurt so much to try and stay awake, his face a blazing pain he couldn’t describe. He had tried so hard to be there for her. Please let her be alive.)_

He dreams of the great Dragon again, as it roars through the world. Great waves grow as it swims, crashing as it swims. Volcanoes erupt in the gaps, islands spring to life. It twines in on itself, before it wraps up and lays its enormous head on its back. It sleeps and lands form around it as the water rolls back over to cover it. The archipelago looks almost familiar.

He is wrenched from his dreams by the booming voice, a voice he knows in his bones like he knows his own name, like he knows the fire that burns in his chest. He wakes with the voice echoing in his ears. **“My chosen, whom I am proud of, it is you who will start the path to save them all.”**

\---

The first thing he notices as he wakes is the pain. He expected it in a way. He knew that his face was getting bad as they floated in the water, and he had done his best to keep the severity hidden from Azula. By the seventh sunrise, he knew he was going to die. All he cared about was keeping Azula alive.

She was the only one worth anything.

It was when she was asleep that he had tried to burn the infection away. He remembered passing out almost immediately, but he hadn’t screamed. He hadn’t slipped off the barrels, in his half-on, half-off position. He’d just blacked out. When he woke up, he’d checked to make sure she was still sleeping, and he did it again.

It gave him a few more days.

But as he forces his eyes to open, he realizes his left isn’t working at all. There is no movement on that side and he wonders if he’s really dead. But his right opens and he stares up at a wooden ceiling. Which he thinks is strange. He doesn’t quite feel real, his limbs strangely weak. His stomach aches, as if he hadn’t eaten in forever. Which was a possibility, because he remembered making sure Azula got the last of the food.

Azula.

“Az-” He started, eye sweeping the room. It was odd, closed cabinets lining the wall and a hammock in the corner. He wasn’t covered in normal cotton blankets, but rather heavy furs. He blinked at them, trying to get his brain to catch up, because there was a very important fact.

“Be quiet, Dum-dum,” A voice replied, and his heart leapt as he realized that his sister was there. He turned his head, and there she was, curled up on a fur next to him, golden eyes narrowed at him. Her hair was short, not even reaching her jaw in some places. Her cheeks weren’t as hollow as they were on the raft, and her skin was cleared up, back to it’s usual pale. She was dressed in a sleeveless russet top wrapped over beige pants. He blinked at her.

“What?” He asked, dumfounded. “Azu-”

“Shut up,” She snapped, and he did. He just stared at her and she sighed and shifted closer. “This is the only time in our lives that I will ever give you permission to call me La-la, understand? They don’t know our real names, Dum-dum. I wasn’t- I didn- they just don’t, okay?” She seemed to fumble over her words.

“Who are they?” He asked quietly.

“Water Tribe.”

“WHAT!” He yelped, moving to sit up, which was a terrible idea. Pain lanced through his entire body, starting with his face and spiraling down to everything else. He whimpered as he laid back and tried to breath through it. Breath control was good for pain management, one of his tutors had always told him.

A door opened and a Water Tribesman stepped in, raising an eyebrow at them. The man was older, a gray beard covering his face, his gray hair pulled back. He glanced at Azula, who scowled back, before turning his attention to Zuko. “I guess you’ve realized why moving is a bad idea?” He asked dryly.

“He’s a dum-dum, what do you want?” Azula sneered. The Tribesman just snorted at her. He came over and settled next to Zuko on the opposite side, a hand coming to touch the boy’s forehead. Zuko tried to jerk away, but it hurt too much. The hand felt warm on his forehead, and much to his shame, he enjoyed the touch.

“Ilah, be nice,” the man chided to which she rolled her eyes. Zuko blinked in confusion at his grandmother’s name, but figured that was part of Azula’s plan. He wasn’t sure, but he never really was sure with Azula. “Well, Kuzon, it does seem like you are getting better quick. I don’t know why I’m still surprised. Your wounds would’ve killed anyone else.” The man retrieved his hand and looked down at the boy.

“That bad?” he asked quietly, before the name caught up. “Wait, who’s Kuzon?”

A deep-suffering sigh from his left. “You, Dum-dum,” Azula muttered. “You’re Kuzon.”

“It’s a good thing I already know you’re using fake names, huh?” The Water Tribe man asked, deeply amused. “Anyways, I’ll get you something to eat. After that, if you’re up to it, the Chief wants to talk to you.”

Fear raced through him. The Chief? Of the Water Tribe? They were on his ship? A word he had learned from Lu Ten that would’ve earned him a slap from his tutors repeated itself in his head. How was he going to get Azula out of here?

“Calm down,” his sister ordered, dragging his attention to her. “The Chief is reasonable. We can at least expect him to act honorably.”

Zuko tried to raise his eyebrows, but only one actually rose. The other one sent a shock through his system and he stopped that immediately. “We can?”

Her eyes softened slightly, which almost sent him into a panic. He’d never seen his sister look at him with soft eyes unless she was planning on setting him on fire. It had happened before. “Stop panicking,” She muttered. “We were rescued about eleven days ago. I’ve taken the measure of Chief Hakoda. He’s acted as an honorable man, who has taken us under his protection. The worst he’s done is make me help cook dinner, as the stove.”

“And what a meal that was,” the Tribesman added, his voice still dry. She sniffed, pride offended, which made him chuckle. “I’ll go get that food for you. Give her a chance to explain without prying ears.” He walked out, shutting the cabin door behind him.

“La-la, what is going on?” Zuko asked, scared and concerned. He had to turn his head completely, trying to ignore the ache in his neck, so that he could see her on his bad side. That was going to be something to get used to later. “I don’t understand.”

She watched him for a moment, before taking a deep breath. “What is the last thing you remember?”

“I tied myself to the barrels,” He said quietly.

“Why?” She asked. Her eyes narrowed again.

He gulped and looked up at the ceiling, letting her leave his view. “I-” he took a deep breath and started again. “I figured that when I died, you could catch the seagulls and have something to eat.” He admitted softly.

There was a silence between them, as Zuko realized that he could hear the waves outside and feel the rocking of the ship. He shivered, a fear creeping in on him. What if this boat sunk? How was he going to keep Azula safe?

“You’re an idiot,” she muttered, but he could feel her shift closer to him. He turned back to look at her. She had her fingers wrapped around the handle of the emergency kit he’d fished out of the wreckage. He blinked at it, but looked back at her as she started talking. “You passed out shortly after. I did my best to wake you up, but I couldn’t reach you without running the risk of tipping my raft. Luckily, you were only out of it for about three hours, when the Water Tribe found us. They brought us on board and began assisting you immediately. The healer requested that we find a port to stop at, and we ended up here.”

“Where’s here?” He asked quietly. “We’re at port?”

“Yes. We’re at the port of Caoze, which is apparently at the edge of a giant swamp in the Earth Kingdom. The swamp is considered a Spirit Wild, if I’m not mistaken,” Azula answered like she was reporting her lessons to Father. Zuko didn’t know what to make of that. “Some of the waterbenders living in the swamp met us when we landed.”

“There are waterbenders in the Earth Kingdom?”

“Apparently. They don’t wear pants for some reason,” This seemed like an important fact, but Zuko wasn’t sure why. “Anyways, the spirits in the swamp sent them here and one of them was a healer. They worked with Kutsaa, the healer that just left, to fix up your eye.”

“Wait, the spirits sent a healer?” He was confused. It almost felt like she was reading from a theater play rather than telling him what happened. “Why?”

“They want to speak to you,” She replied, nonchalant, and suddenly, all he could remember was his dreams.

_(The Pai Sho board, as the woman places a piece and a sunbeam answers with another, The dragon that sleeps, its snores rattling the earth, dark waters and deep respect, lapping over him like the waves on the shore, blacknes-)_

A harsh whisper snarled into his ear, “ _Zuko_ ” He jerks and looks over to see Azula’s face white, her eyes narrowed with anger. One hand was gripping his wrist, bruisingly tight, while the other was white knuckled on the emergency bag.

“Sorry,” he breathed out. “I’m sorry, La-la.”

She leaned back, letting his wrist go. “What happened?” She asked quietly.

“Nothing. Is there anything else I need to know?” He asked softly.

Something flashed over her face, but disappeared quickly. She shook her head. “No, there isn’t.”

As always, he couldn’t tell if she was telling the truth.

\---

Chief Hakoda was a lean man with a sun-worn face. There was something about him that seemed familiar _(clever eyes)_ , but Zuko couldn’t place it. He noticed that Azula didn’t seem concerned as the man had entered the cabin.

Zuko had fought to sit up on his own to eat, without the help of Healer Kutsaa. Azula, predictably, had rolled her eyes at his stubbornness, but there was something in her look that hinted at a smile.

Hakoda gave him an appraising look and nodded at him. He glanced at Azula and smiled. “Ilah, did you eat as well?” He asked, his voice soft. Zuko blinked, confused as his little sister scowled but nodded. The man returned it with an approving nod and settled down to sit across from Zuko. “How are you feeling?” He asked gently.

“Alive,” Zuko answered, honestly. “Confused,” he added.

“I bet. What are you most confused about?”

 _Why my sister almost seems to like you? Where I am? Why you showed kindness to the enemy? Why you had your healer save me?_ The litany of questions raced through his mind. It was too much and he choked on the response, like the awkward idiot he was.

Hakoda patiently waited for him to answer. He didn’t rush him like everyone else had always done. Zuko found himself appreciating it, before the guilt of appreciating the enemy hit him. His father was right, he was a disappointment.

He tried to shake the bad thoughts out and settle everything else. Finally, he found what he wanted to say. “Why did you save us?” He asked quietly.

“It was the right thing to do.” The Chief responded immediately. “There is a law among those who live on the ocean; if you see someone in need, you help. You and your sister needed help, we were there. You’re also children, so of course we helped you.”

Zuko opened his mouth, as if to remind him that they were Fire Nation, before wondering if they even knew. He paused and tried to go think. Parsing through someone’s intentions had never been his strong suit. He wasn’t clever enough for that, as he was always reminded.

“What happens when I’m completely recovered?” He finally asked, glancing at Azula for help. Hopefully, she’d be able to figure out what the Water Tribe wanted. She had been uncharacteristically quiet so far, which almost concerned him. She was watching them carefully, almost hugging the emergency bag to her chest.

“Well, according to Huu, the waterbender from the nearby swamp, the spirits want to talk to you,” Hakoda started, and Zuko could feel his mind slipping back into that place where his dreams overwhelmed him. He raised his eyebrows, just to pull at his left eye, the pain keeping him present. The chief noticed the look, but didn’t stop. “I plan to help you get there and back. After that, I promised your sister that we’d discuss what to happen then. I believe she plans for you to return to the Fire Nation?”

“We need to go home,” Azula said. Zuko looked over at her, seeing her face and wondering what the emotion behind it actually was. “But I don’t want to make plans before the spirits speak. There’s no point.”

“That’s wise,” Hakoda praised, and she rolled her eyes again, though Zuko could tell she was pleased.

Suddenly, Zuko realized exactly how much his sister had saved them. The Water Tribe didn’t know that Fire Nation royalty was practically helpless, sitting in their flagship. By giving fake names and refusing to give anything else, Azula had kept them from being held for ransom or worse. They did need to go home, or at least, get out of the Water Tribe custody.

He felt panic well up in his chest. He was so out of his depth. He could keep Azula alive in the ocean. All he had to do was figure out the emergency kit and make sure she got the most food. He knew that she was more important than him. She was the prodigy. Grandfather would definitely want her back. But here, in the middle of enemy territory? Zuko was going to get them killed. The only hope they had was that when they were discovered, when the enemy did decide to actually capture them, he could get her out so she could go home.

He was expendable.

She was not.


End file.
